


Don't Dwell On It

by NobodyOfficial



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: (and soft and adorable but we already know this), At the hospital, Body Positivity, F/M, Fluff, Insecurity, Little bit of angst, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, Weight Issues, arnold is smart, but no MCs are ill, gotswana is fabulous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 05:36:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11434248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NobodyOfficial/pseuds/NobodyOfficial
Summary: Tumblr prompt: hi I can't find the prompt list but can you please write a fic where Arnold is insecure about his chub ???---Feeling insecure and out of place watching the other elders relax in the sun, Arnold decides to visit Gotswana for some advice. Instead he ends up helping out with the patients for the day and begins to seriously consider his future.After a long day, Gotswana walks him to Mafala's house where he and Nabulungi share some sleepy, whispered thoughts.





	Don't Dwell On It

**Author's Note:**

> For the above tumblr prompt. My poor boy, I didn't want to hurt him too much, so here's what I have. They didn't specify a ship, so I don't have too much shippy stuff in here, but I tried.
> 
> Anyway, you've seen the prompt, heads up for:  
> -insecurity  
> -body image issues (but very mild, ma boy's actually pretty confident)  
> -I spoke to an African doctor about hospitals in Africa, but they only work in big city hospitals not small villages. So probably an unfair description of a village hospital. I went off how poor and small the musical seems to make the village out to be, but also the fact that they have an X-ray.  
> -Was playing with the idea of Arnold being adopted, so random mention of his parents being immigrants to explain why he gets so tanned while I toy with that idea.

Summer in Uganda was oppressive. This close to the equator days were long and stifling from the moment the sun peered over the horizon, with only a brief respite during curfew hours. As the earth became dry and cracked people began to struggle, the air heavy with heat and animosity.

Even the elders, who didn't rely on agriculture to make a living, found the heat disruptive and uncomfortable. To remedy this they had gathered several small, blow-up paddling pools and set them down in the yard. Most of the teenagers were now lounging around in swimming shorts, trying to stay cool.

Arnold had curled himself up beneath a tree with a comic book and some orange juice. He was hot and sticky, the shade doing nothing to keep him cool, pulling at his T-shirt ever so often to stop it clinging to him. Usually he was the most sociable person at the centre, full of energy and eager to talk to everyone, but watching the other elders stretching in the sun he felt lethargic and out of place.

Kevin was tall, tanned, and toned; he easily would've made it on to a magazine cover. Connor was softer but equally slim, with pretty, pale skin dotted with freckles. They made a beautiful couple, literally and figuratively. It wasn't often that Arnold found it necessary to compare himself to others, he knew he was attractive and sweet, but with everyone seemingly flaunting their conventionally attractive bodies he couldn't help but feel insecure. He was soft and that was great, but it didn't feel that way when it came to hanging out in paddling pools with the guys.

"Hey buddy." Arnold looked up to see a half-naked, dripping Kevin sit down beside him. "You ok? Not too hot?"

Unfurling himself a little, Arnold at least attempted to look comfortable. "I guess I'm fine," he shrugged unconvincingly. "I just feel a bit..." He surveyed the boys in front of him, their sharp cheeks and prominent collar bones, "Unhealthy?"

"Are you sick?" Kevin's face paled and he pressed a wet hand against Arnold's forehead. "You do feel hot. Have you been in the sun too long? Feel queasy? Do you want to go see Gotswana?"

Flattered, but still a little unused to having friends fuss over him like this, Arnold leaned back and said, "No, nothing like that. I'm ok. I might just go inside for a bit." He stood up and shook his T-shirt loose from where it had stuck to his back, then offered Kevin a reassuring smile.

He patted him on the shoulder, "As long as you're alright," and went back to join his boyfriend in the pool. Connor and Kevin were so sweet and supportive of each other, maybe what Arnold needed right now was to see Nabulungi. He changed into dry clothes, before realising they would only become sweaty again as he walked to Nabulungi's house, so abandoned that idea. Instead he decided he might visit Gotswana after all. He didn't feel at all ill, but Gotswana was smart and funny, he always made Arnold feel better. After filling his backpack with water and some supplies Gotswana had mentioned he was running low on he set off without alerting any of the other elders. He was in one of those moods; let them worry, it didn't matter.

It wasn't far to the doctor's, no more than a fifteen minute walk, but with the sun bearing down on him Arnold quickly began to regret his decision. His tongue felt like a burning rag in his mouth, but he refused to drink the water; Gotswana would need some cool, refreshing, quenching, delicious (he really stop thinking about this) water, especially in this heat.

By the time Arnold reached the hospital he felt as though his skin was melting, and couldn't wait to get inside to be met with the cool tingle of air conditioning. Instead he found people spilling on to the street from a crowded waiting room, the stuffy space cooled only by a single fan. There was at least five people to each chair; people lay prone on the floor, several almost appearing dead. As Arnold navigated the tangle of limbs towards Gotswana's room people hissed things in local dialects and gave him malevolent stares. He was struggling with Swahili, better at understanding it than speaking it, but he'd barely picked up anything of any other languages. Still, he understood the general mumble of malcontent: he was a privileged white boy.

When he reached the door Arnold knocked hurriedly, fearful of the hundreds of eyes bearing in to his back. Of course, he could sympathise, they were desperate and he seemed pushy, but he didn't know how to explain he was just stopping by.

"Look, I have just taken in a new patient, of course I am not ready yet!" Gotswana yelled from inside the office. "Wait your turn, I know it's hot."

"No, no, sorry," Arnold stuttered. "It's me, umm, it's Arnold, I just brought some... Stuff." There was murmuring behind him as people who spoke English realised he was here to help, and those who didn't explained it to their families. Arnold relaxed his defensive position a little, turning sideways to face the room.

"Ah! Elder Cunningham!" There was a rustling then the door opened. As soon as Gotswana showed his face the noise turned from muttering to uproars as the crowd went crazy. Arnold cowered and ducked in to the office. The door was slammed shut.

"Sorry," Arnold said again. "I didn't think things would be so crazy. Sorry. I've brought some water and some medical supplies." He lifted his bag on to the table beside a small boy whose leg was bleeding. "Hello," he said to the boy. "Mimi ni Arnold."

Gotswana roared with laughter. "Even your accent is white. We will work on that." He gestured to the backpack. "But thank you for the supplies. Usually I would tell you we are not a charity, but it's always so busy in summer. People come from villages miles away because I have some of the best technology, besides in the city. I am overloaded. It's stressful."

Arnold looked around at Gotswana's 'state of the art' technology. He had an X-ray machine that looked like it would give you cancer, a sink as dry as the earth outside, a wooden operating table with a sheet of stainless steel glued to the top. Arnold felt an awful, uneasy feeling stir in chest and stared down at his shoes.

"Ok Adama." Gotswana mumbled some things in Swahili to the little boy, then took a large bandaid from Arnold's bag and, after a final wipe down, stuck it to his leg. "You see," Gotswana said to Arnold, "I have a lot of difficult decisions to make. I can use this bandaid and potentially waste resources I could use for those who need them more. Or I can just clean his leg up and send him on his way, but then I risk him getting his leg infected and then needing more resources." He sighed tiredly and helped Adama off the table.

"Goodbye Arnold," Adama smiled as he left. Arnold's spirits lifted a little.

"So," Gotswana clasped his hands together, looking professional but exhausted, "What do you want, elder?"

Arnold quickly shook his head. "I was going to ask you something, but you're so busy. It's completely unimportant, doesn't matter at all. I'll go now, I'm in your way." He started for the door.

"Hey elder, wait," Gotswana called. "You can stay. I'm busy, but you're troubled. Stay until I close up, we can talk then."

Arnold thought of the hundreds of sick people outside who had travelled miles to see Gotswana. He looked at the doctor, tired and shaky but more than willing to aid these people. "Would you... Like a hand?" Arnold offered. "I'm not much of a healer, umm, but science was my best subject in high school. And I think I'm capable of passing you scissors and stuff."

Gotswana nodded and ran a hand over his face. Then he looked Arnold straight in the eye. "Wait, what? You want to help me?"

Hunching his shoulders, Arnold gave a small shrug. "I mean, if you want. I know I'm not much help. I'll probably just be in your way, I'll go, I'm sorry." He reached for the door handle.

"No." Gotswana stopped him. "Please, your help is much appreciated." He pointed to the sideboard. "Put some clean gloves on, I'll let the next patient in."

~

Arnold was exhausted. Every time he blinked it got harder and harder to open his eyes again. Gotswana had worked him hard. All day they'd dealt with patient after patient, doing the best they could with what they had. Gotswana had done all the medical work, but he'd had Arnold fetching clamps and compresses and bandages. It was a demanding job.

"Alright, you are good to go." Gotswana tied the bandage off around a woman's arm and sent her out the door, then collapsed on to a stool. "Man, I am so tired," he yawned. "Thank you for your help, elder, I'm sure it is most appreciated by the people."

Arnold didn't understand how Gotswana was still standing. He barely had the energy to breath, and he'd only been there half the day. And Gotswana did this every day, in at sunrise, home well after sundown. It was dark outside now. Arnold wasn't looking forward to his walk back to the centre.

"Now," Gotswana tried to muster an energetic smile, "What is you wanted to ask me?"

Suddenly shy, Arnold blushed and drew his hands against his chest. Gotswana listened with the sincerity of a doctor. "Do you..." Arnold wrapped his arms around himself. "Gotswana, do you think I'm fat?"

"Yes," he replied immediately. Arnold nodded sadly, curling himself into a tighter ball. "You're upset?" He questioned, gently touching the boy's arm. "Is that not what you wanted to hear?"

"Well, it's not exactly a good thing to hear, is it?" Arnold cupped one of his chubby cheeks in his hand and leaned against the desk.

"No? Get up, Elder Cunningham." Gotswana stood Arnold in front of him, then tiredly returned his stethoscope to his ears. Gently, he pressed it against Arnold's chest. "Mm, very good. Healthy heart beat," he mused.

Next he shone a small flashlight in Arnold's eyes. "Eyes are bright. Clear. Always a good sign." He inspected Arnold's face. "You have been spending a lot of time in the sun, but you're not burnt. That's good, but I'm surprised."

"My parents are emigrants," Arnold said. "From the Middle East."

"You are still pretty white," Gotswana shrugged. He put the torch down then began to press gently on Arnold's stomach.

"Hey!" He giggled and squirmed away. "What're you doing now?"

"I'm making sure your stomach is soft. If not you may be ill or malnourished." He pulled a wriggling Arnold back towards him.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that. My tummy's really soft." He rubbed his stomach affectionately. Why shouldn't he love it? It was great for cuddling and looked adorable in sweaters.

"Good. That means you eat lots of healthy food. Can I open these?" He pointed to the top buttons on Arnold's shirt.

Arnold blushed and shrugged. He'd never let anyone unbutton his shirt before, it felt awkward. "Sure, why?"

Gotswana tilted his chin up, then gently felt his ribs. "I'm making sure none of your bones are showing."

Arnold wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Like when you break them? I think I'd know if I'd broken something." His dad would always spitefully joke that he had too much padding to break a bone, but he'd broken his wrist when he was five and never wanted to repeat the experience. What most people assumed was clumsiness Arnold saw as near misses from potentially dangerous situations.

"No, not when you break them. I'm checking they are not showing under your skin." Gotswana rebuttoned Arnold's shirt then ruffled his curls. "All done. You are very healthy. I recommend drinking lots of water in this heat, but apart from the keep doing what you are doing." He busied himself beginning to tidy away supplies.

Arnold frowned, tapping his fingers on the desk. "But you're a doctor," he said eventually. "You can't tell me it's healthy to be fat."

Chuckling, Gotswana shook his head. "That's not what I told you." He stood Arnold up again and passed him his backpack as they began heading for the door. "Elder Cunningham, you are young, vibrant, and happy. Those don't sound like the qualities of an unhealthy person. Weight is a single and rather insignificant measure of a person's health. I did not say being fat is healthy, but I also didn't say it's unhealthy. There are a lot of other important factors to be considered. Don't dwell on this one."

By now they were peering out into the darkness, and the only things Arnold was dwelling on were the lions and the murders and the mosquitos and the AIDS and everything else Nabulungi had warned him about. Although he could hold his own in a fight this was mostly down to throwing punches at random and screaming like a small child until the attackers backed away. Now he was tired and emotionally drained, on foreign terrain, and everything looked different in the dark. He stepped closer to Gotswana, who put an arm protectively around his shoulders.

"Would you like me to walk you home, elder?" He offered, rubbing his eyes.

"No, that's not fair." Arnold yawned himself. "You're tired and it's far away. I'll be fine." He meant to detach himself from Gotswana and wander into the wilderness, but fear kept his legs frozen.

"Or I could walk you to Mafala's house. It's only a couple of minutes away and he will certainly let you stay. Only the other day he was telling me how happy he is for you and Naba."

"That would be really great, thank you." They set off into the darkness, Gotswana wielding the tiny torch he had been using earlier.

"Elder Cunningham, what do you plan to study when you return to America?" Gotswana asked suddenly as they walked.

"I haven't really thought about it," Arnold shrugged. "I'm not good at much." He hadn't graduated top of his class, but Arnold had great grades that would certainly get him into a good college. His dad said college would be wasted on him, but if it meant he could actually get a job it was worth the money.

"For what it's worth, I think you would make an excellent doctor. You are smart and intuitive. Friendly too, a good people person. You could tell someone they were dying and make it seem ok."

Arnold was shocked. He had been thinking of maybe becoming a kindergarten teacher or a low level civil servant. It hadn't even crossed his mind to aim high, like a scientist or a doctor. He'd never been told to aim high. "Gotswana... That means a lot to me," he smiled softly. "But I don't think I'd be any good as a doctor. I struggle reading long texts and I'm not very organised. I wouldn't want to disappoint anyone."

"Oh, don't worry." Gotswana waved a hand airily. "Everyone struggled with the long texts. And doctors are some of the most disorganised people I know. I'm not pushing you, it's just a suggestion. Think about it."

Arnold was already thinking about it. He did like helping people. It would be tough, but recently he'd been proving that he could rise to a challenge. But he didn't want to be a doctor in America. He wanted to come back right here and sit beside Gotswana, sweating in a tiny surgery all hours of the day and night. Only when he was through with it there would be a proper cooling system and modern medical equipment and enough doctors in rural areas that people didn't have to travel three villages over for a bandaid. He smiled to himself.

There was still light in Mafala's house when they arrived. Arnold was dragging his feet, desperate to get to sleep. He admired Gotswana's energy, but was also ready for him to just shut up and let Arnold wallow in sleepy self-pity.

As soon as Mafala opened the door his hands were on Arnold's shoulders, a worried expression on his face. "Elder Cunningham, why are you with the doctor? Are you sick? Why aren't you at the centre? Was it a lion?"

"I'm fine," Arnold soothed, allowing his tired body to be pulled in for a hug. "I just stayed late helping Gotswana. Do you mind if I stay here? I'm so tired."

"Of course not." Mafala tried to pull out of the hug but Arnold was resting his head on his shoulder, already falling asleep. "But don't think you can try anything with my Naba. I'll be right next door."

"Well, I will see you later. I have a family to get home to." Gotswana pried Arnold from Mafala's chest and stood him up straight. "Thank you for all your help today elder, you have the makings of a fine doctor." Arnold promised he'd come back another time to help, but only in his head. Gotswana said to Mafala, "Give him something to eat before he goes to bed, it's been a long day. And give him some water, it's hot."

They waved goodbye and Gotswana was swallowed up by the African night. Nabulungi rushed in and fussed over Arnold, cuddling him and kissing his cheek. He felt sleepy and dazed but Nabulungi was clear as day and beautiful as ever. While Mafala heated him a bowl of... Something, probably the goat he was petting last week, she whispered to him and gently stroked his hair. He loved her.

After eating something he didn't remember the taste of and drinking every time water was offered to him, Arnold finally got to collapse beside Nabulungi. It was a warm night, so they didn't sleep huddled together, but rather as far apart as they could get. Still, this was their first night sharing a bed, so they intertwined their fingers on the pillow.

"Naba," he mumbled sleepily, "I'm super tired right now, but I just wanna tell you I love you so much, and I'm totally thinking about moving to Uganda, and that would be great because then we could get married."

"Arnold," with her free hand Nabulungi gently stroked his cheek, "We are only nineteen. Marriage is a long way in both of our futures."

"I know." Arnold didn't have the energy to nod. "That's what I'm thinking about."

Nabulungi moved her hand to rest on Arnold's waist, pulling herself just a little bit closer. "You're so soft and comfortable, I don't mind if I get warm. I want to sleep with you." She moved over and curled up against Arnold's side, head on his chest.

"Awesome," Arnold smiled. "I make a great pillow. I'm awesome. I'm gonna be an awesome husband. G'night Nabulungi." He closed his eyes and relaxed.

"I can't wait until you're my awesome husband," Nabulungi whispered softly into the night.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope it was ok, there wasn't that much to go off. Sorry, parts of this were really bad.
> 
> Tumblr: everyonewholovesmehasdied 
> 
> Thanks for reading :)


End file.
